Unintentional
by skybound2
Summary: Buffy and Spike talk about a few things after her speech in "Get it Done"


**Author:** skybound****

**Summary: **Buffy and Spike have a chat post "Get it Done." Spoilers up to that point.                                  

**Disclaimer: **All Hail Joss

**Rating: **G

**Feedback**: Yummy and delicious treats!

**_Unintentional_**

The stairs creaked unforgivingly as Buffy made her way down to the basement; a strange mixture of cigarette smoke and dryer sheets assailing her nose. She didn't know if she should be angry at Spike for smoking down there, or happy that Andrew had convinced her to purchase the _Downy_ dryer sheets.

"Spike?" She called out his name tentatively, wanting to give him fair warning of her presence, regardless of the fact that he would have undoubtedly heard the steps, if he hadn't been able to smell her as she approached. It was just gross that vampires could smell you coming a mile away. She grimaced at the memory of the vamp that refused to bite her due to the wonderful burger smell she had sported last year. _Amazing Spike ever came near me, considering…_

"Spike?" Buffy reached the bottom of the stairs, letting out a heavy sigh when she noticed the distinct lack of one bleached-blonde souled vampire on the makeshift bed. The sheets were rumpled, and tossed haphazardly to the side so she thought perhaps he had just gone out for a minute. Although, truth be told, she really had no idea if he ever made his bed or not. _Did he make his bed back at the crypt? Did I ever stay long enough to notice? _

Buffy shuffled back and forth on her feet, considering her options. It was only three hours before sunrise, Spike was certain to be back before then. There was no real reason to not just stick around until he got back. She really did want to talk to him. Tell him what she'd experienced in the other dimension. Tell him the vision she'd seen. But all of that was just surface. The truth was, she was worried.

The look on his face as she had tossed those hateful words his way had seared itself on her retinas. 

_'I did this for you! The soul! The changes! It's what you wanted.'_

_'What I want, is the Spike that's dangerous. The Spike that tried to kill me when we met.'_

_'Oh, you don't know how close you are to bringing him out.'_

_'I'm no where near him...'_

The others might not have understood the true meaning behind her words, they all took it for how she meant for them to take it, that she couldn't condone weakness, but Spike understood her. Knew her better then anyone. And his face in that moment had reflected perfectly what she was really saying. That she resented him. Resented that he had gotten the soul. Resented the fact that he was the only one willing to fight like that for her; when she wasn't willing to fight like that for herself.

She made her way on jittering legs to the cot, settling herself down on the edge for a few moments, her mind still envisioning the army that awaited them. Not that long after, she gave into the cool crispness of the cotton sheets, unconsciously inhaling the scent that was unmistakably Spike. 

She knew she needed to explain herself. Explain the fact that she was thankful to him for still being here. He could have left so many times, but he never did, not really. He could have abandoned them tonight, but he chose instead to get back his leather armor and slaughter a demon for her. Not exactly chocolates and flowers but…maybe it could be enough. 

She snuggled deeper into the comfort of the sheets with a contented sigh. She'd let him know when he got back.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

~----\/----~                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

Amazing. He'd just spent the better part of the evening out in the graveyards around town, desperately trying to vent his frustrations with the damnable blonde that ruled most of his thoughts, on the unsuspecting demon populace. In the end he'd managed to dust numerous vamps, and two overly furry demons, before he decided it would be safe to return to the house. No chance anyone'd still be awake this close to sunrise.

Well, at least he'd gotten that part right. No one was awake. However, there was a slayer sleeping soundly in his bed, a small smile on her face. A picture he had envisioned countless times before, but tonight it simply made his blood boil. 

He quietly unlaced his boots and placed them to the side of the stairs, before slipping the well-worn leather from his shoulders and draping it over the railing. His hand lingered on the material for a moment, the feel of it against his skin so familiar yet alien at the same time. A relic of who he was before; of someone he would rather forget. It was the past, and he wanted so much to settle into his future, even if it was to be short lived. 

His jaw set in a tight line then, how dare she throw everything he had worked for back in his face! He had thought that she understood him now, understood and accepted him for who he was, if not for what he was. Why else would she have had the chip removed after all, if she didn't think he was a changed man? It didn't make any logical sense. But then, Buffy had never been one for the logic. 

And now? Now she wants him to be like he used to be. Does she realize that his soul is permanent? That it isn't being held on by scotch tape like his poof of a grandsire? _Better just to ask and find out then stand around brooding._

He moved to the bed then, settled down to the side of her and just watched her breathe in and out for a few moments. _Girl'll be the death of me._

Buffy stirred slightly, the weight of him on the cot jostling her out of sleep; she blinked heavily up at him then, "Spike?"

"You expecting to find someone else in my bed?"

"Huh?"

"What are you doing here, Slayer."

"I wanted to talk."

Stormy eyes bored into her then, he leaned down towards her, his face mere inches from her own. "Never really spent time talkin' to me when you're laying in my bed, pet." His voice was low and thick as honey, as his eyes followed a path down her face, following the curve of her lips, his tongue darting out to moisten his own, before he followed the curve of her neck, watching the pulse thrumming away. 

Buffy remained still, willing her heart to beat at a normal rate as she watched him raise a calloused hand to trace the long column of her throat. His thumb settled at the junction of her shoulder and neck, tapping lightly along with the beat of her heart. He leaned further down, his lips grazing her ear as he spoke. Cool breath sending a chill straight through her, making her gasp slightly.

He chuckled at her reaction, noting with mild amusement that her temperature had risen ever so slightly. "You wanted me back the way I was, right pet? Said you needed the old, Spikey back. Even specified which one you wanted, as I've seemed to go through so many changes since I met you. Very clever of you then, stating that you wanted the version that wanted to snap this pretty little neck." He applied a little more pressure with his hand to her throat, careful not to actually harm her.

"So, is that what this is about then, hmmm, Slayer? Planning on fucking my soul away like you did Angelus? Well, let me let you know upfront, love, this soul's not quite as flimsy."

Buffy's body tightened, preparing to have to throw him from her if necessary, but she held it in check. _I asked for this, I'll deal with it. _"Ugh, get off me Spike."

"Mmm, maybe later." He purred lightly, as he moved his body lengthwise beside her.

The breath caught in her throat as she felt him stretch out beside her, their bodies pressed tightly together. She wondered how he could feel so warm against her cotton-covered flesh, the sensation of him was enough to make her woozy, she doubted she could even stand if she tried. "What are you doing, Spike?"

"What's it look like, love? Sun's just 'bout up. I've been out enjoying myself a nice demon massacre. I'm a bit knackered. Thought, I'd catch some shuteye, and seeing how this is _my _bed, this seemed like a good place to do so. Of course," He let his gaze linger down her body, before settling on her face again, pressing his tongue to his teeth, "if you have a better idea." 

"Oh, god, Spike!" Buffy, pushed him away from her, swinging her legs up and over the side of the bed, but made no effort to move away from him, her legs feeling slightly shaky. W_hat the hell is wrong with me? Oh that's right Buffy, it's called guilt. _She watched with exasperation as he began to laugh. "Okay, I give. What's so funny?"

"Do you really have to ask, pet? This whole situation is bloody hilarious!"

"Oh, it's gonna get real bloody in another minute if you don't knock it off with the laugh-track."

She tried to remain serious, keep that famous 'Willow Resolve' face on, but it was a hopeless cause as she watched his eyes tear up from the laughter. The corners of her mouth tugged themselves upward in a small smile, "I really did want to talk, you know."

Spike seemed to get himself under control then, nodding his consent towards her, and waited for her to speak. He did his best to ignore the tingle that coasted through his leg where her knee touched his. 

"What I said earlier – "

"Don't apologize. I know you meant every word."

"I never said I was going to apologize. If you'd just give me half a chance – "

"Half a chance? Is that what you want? Hmm, let me think about it. No." Buffy watched, anger beginning to build inside her as he focused on her with darkened eyes.

"Jesus, Spike. You can be so, so – "

"Eerily right?"

"I was going to go with aggravating."

"You should think about investing in a thesaurus, Slayer."

"Why, bother. You'd just hear what you'd want to hear anyway."

Spike narrowed his eyes at her, "Oh, I always listen to what you say. That's the problem inn't?"

"I _never_ told you to get a soul!"

"No! But you damn near killed me on more then one occasion due to the lack of one!"

"Spike…"

"Do the words 'Evil, _Souless_, thing' mean anything to you?" He made the word soulless sound almost obscene with the amount of venom he laced it with; Buffy flinched imperceptibly at the reminder. 

Spike waited, unnecessary breath being drawn in heavily as he watched the righteous indignation on her face give way, a deathly pallor settling over her as she closed her eyes and turned away from him.

"We both said and did a lot of things last year, Spike. I don't know that it would be fair to either one of us to try and lay blame now."

Spike seemed to consider that as he reached for a pack of cigarettes, the plastic rustling slightly.

"Not a good idea to piss off the girl with the stake, Spike."

"Who are you kidding, Slayer? You and I both know you left Mr. Pointy upstairs tonight."

"How…?" The look he gave her could melt butter, so slick and heated, she felt a blush creep into her cheeks, remembering how intimately close they had been laying just a few moments ago. "Oh."

"But, all the same, I wasn't planning on lightin' one anyway." She nodded then, clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap as he continued,  "so, you, uh, you wanted to talk. So talk."

Tired hazel eyes met icy blue then, both swallowing at the sight of the other, neither willing to bend first. 

"I need you to be strong, Spike. These girls, they don't stand a chance against what's coming. I need to know that someone I can count on is fighting with me."

"You don't think I've been strong? I was right before then, when I said you were blind. Do you have any idea how hard it is, dealing with what I am, what I've done?  Can you at least try and understand how difficult it is to not just walk out into the sun every morning?"

"I can, Spike. Believe it or not I can, but I need you to get past it. If any of us are going to come out of this thing alive, I'm going to need your strength. I need to know I can count on you. Can I count on you, Spike?"

Spike observed her for few moments. Taking in the tired lines around her eyes and at the corners of her mouth, mixed in with what looked to be a bit of hope. "Always." It was a promise he intended to keep.

"Good." There was no smile as she accepted his pledge, but there was no mistaking the slight lift of her shoulders, as the extra weight seemed to be removed. There was so much more she wanted to explain to him. So much she would like to explain, but all she wanted to do now was curl up and sleep for five days; maybe when she woke up, the apocalypse would have been averted and she could do some serious shopping. 

She leaned back down into the spot she had warmed up before, noting with some amusement the confused expression that flitted across Spike's face before he lay down next to her once more, his body stiffening as she curled herself up against him, sighing contentedly. Not exactly the conversation she had intended to have when she came down, but good none-the-less. She breathed out dreamily,  "definitely of the good." 

Spike wrapped his arms around her tentatively, counting off her heartbeats until she finally succumbed to her exhaustion. "Yes, love, definitely of the good." He pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head before he joined her in sleep.

~End~                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

**Author's Note: **Written for the Spuffy ficathon; recipient wanted:

**Timeline**: Post First Date, Pre-Chosen, but flexible   
**Wants**: banter between Buffy and Spike, Buffy admitting she's involved with Spike if only to herself   
**Doesn't Want**: Spike abuse, either physical or from the rest of the Scoobies.


End file.
